Myste's Choosing
by nscangal
Summary: The title says it all. One shot. I don't think it's very good, but it's mainly to try to banish writer's block on another story I have going, and try to understand Myste more. I fixed the error I made in it, and am appropriately disgusted with myself.


This is something that just sort of popped into my head. I like the character of Myste, and I've wondered ever since she was introduced how her Choosing might have gone. Added to that is the fact that I find writing something else often helps me when I'm stuck on one story. So, yeah, this is how I think her experience with being Chosen might have gone. It's not supposed to be good. Like Myste said in _Exile's Honor_, it's pretty quiet.

Disclaimer: _If_ I were Madame Lackey, why, pray tell, would I be posting my writing on I (sadly) own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that since some parts of it were already set out in _Exile's Honor_. I'm not stealing, so lay off.

Note: I know I screwed up yesterday on it, and I'm ticked off at myself about it. I mean, who mixes up Alierian and Dirk's Companion? Honestly…. Anyway, it's fixed now.

(One-shot)

**Myste's Choosing**

Myste sat at her desk, working on yet another report. The day wasn't even half over yet, and already she was tired. She glanced up at the candle that marked the time near her desk.

"Lunchtime," she muttered. "Thank the Gods."

On her way out, she decided to buy her lunch from a nearby food vendor and eat it in the local park. It was unusual for her – usually she met up with a few acquaintances and ate at a local inn – but she wanted to be alone today. One couldn't have "friends" if one was a clerk. Too many times a person who'd seen too much had been betrayed by one they called "friend". "Acquaintance" would have to do for those who wanted the illusion of friendship – or simply wanted to avoid enemies as Myste did.

The nearest park was a pretty little place, this time of year. It was nothing compared to the Palace grounds or some of the parks in richer areas of Haven, but it was good enough on its own. She selected an isolated bench away from the more popular areas – by the pond and the ones hidden by bushes or trees – and began to munch on her food. The infernal clumsiness she'd had her whole life ensured that a good deal of the food wound up on the ground, but she didn't care. She was alone, away from the confined room that served as her office, and enjoying a rare time out of sight of any of the local buildings.

She liked her job well enough – and it certainly provided more excitement and danger than she would care to have – but lately it had seemed too… something. Whatever it was, she found herself hating every minute she had to spend rifling through papers at someone else's orders. She liked the technical parts of it, but so often what she had to do seemed pointless, or worse, immoral.

She sat on the bench in the park, reveling in the quiet and allowing her thoughts to go where they would. She knew that if things continued the way they were, there would soon be another war between Karse and Valdemar. Maybe she could get herself a job with the army. It would be a change, and at least she would be doing some good for once, rather than helping crooked people hide from their taxes.

Suddenly she heard a sound like a bell. She glanced up in annoyance and saw – a horse. No, it was a Companion. No horses were that white, or had eyes that blue. _What in the Havens is a Companion doing here? _she wondered. _Formal saddle, no rider – probably going to find his Chosen, then, I guess. This close to the Collegium, if a Herald was in trouble, the other Heralds would be swarming all over the place._

When she saw he hadn't moved, she fixed him with a flat stare. "I haven't any youngsters hidden in my skirts, you know," she said. "If you're looking for your Chosen, you might want to try by the lake, or behind some bushes, or something."

_:Oh, but I've already found my Chosen: _the Companion "said" to her. _:I am Alierian, and _you_, Myste, are my Chosen:_

Myste's face suddenly resembled that of a stunned ox. "_What!_" she gasped.

_:I think you heard me quite well. I won't repeat myself. Get on so we can go to the Collegium.: _the Companion's voice was full of amusement.

"But – I – I'm too old!" she exclaimed. "I don't have any coordination, I'm in horrible shape, and – _gods! _– I can't think who would be more uncomfortable with my riding skills, or lack thereof, me or you. Why would you want to Choose me? Are you _insane?_"

_:There have been some Chosen older than you. Not many, but some. Thirteen is only the _average_ age for someone to be Chosen, after all. Physical coordination isn't necessary to be a Herald, and your riding skills and physical shape can be improved.: _The Companion replied. _:Furthermore, you have something that Valdemar needs, and you have what it takes to be a Herald. Those things alone make you worth Choosing. And if I'm insane, it's not in a way that concerns you.:_

"You must be kidding me. Chosen! At my age," Myste muttered. Then an unpleasant thought occurred to her. "Wait a minute – if word gets out that I was Chosen, damn near everyone I know will be after me for one favor or another. I'll never be left alone!"

_:So? Word doesn't have to get out.:_

Myste thought for a few seconds. Then an idea occurred to her. "I have most of my work done for today. Do you think I could go back, finish up, hand in my resignation and just disappear, quietly? In my profession it's not usually wise to trust people too much, so they won't be surprised if I just disappear without notice."

Alierian appeared to think for a little while on that. _:Why not? If it makes things easier for both you and the Collegium, I think we can wait a mark or two.:_

Myste beamed up at her Companion. "Thankyou. I'll meet you here when I'm done." As she made her way back to her workplace, she shook her head. _Chosen, at my age!_ she mused. _Well, I suppose I can't complain. I did want a change, after all._


End file.
